You are becoming someone new
There is a word — not widely known, but slowly finding its way into the conversation — for the psychological transformation a person undergoes when they become a parent. It's called *matrescence*
There is a word — not widely known, but slowly finding its way into the conversation — for the psychological transformation a person undergoes when they become a parent. It's called matrescence. Coined by anthropologist Dana Raphael in the 1970s and more recently brought into mainstream discussion by Dr Aurelie Athan, it describes the developmental shift of becoming a mother (and, by extension, any primary caregiver) in the same way adolescence describes the shift from child to adult.
It is not a minor transition. It is a seismic one. And yet almost no one prepares new parents for it.
What nobody tells you about becoming a parent
When you're pregnant, almost everything is focused on the baby. The scans. The birth plan. The nursery. The tiny clothes. The information about feeds and sleep schedules and car seat safety.
Very little of it is about you. About what happens to your sense of self when a new identity — parent — is laid over the top of everything you were before.
The result is that many new parents are blindsided by a feeling they can't quite name. Not depression, not anxiety — just a profound sense of I don't know who I am anymore. A mourning for a version of themselves that has, quietly, disappeared. An unsettling feeling of existing in a threshold between who they were and who they're becoming, without being fully either.
If this is you — this is not a crisis. This is matrescence.
What you might be grieving
Grief in this context is not about regretting having a baby. It can exist entirely alongside deep love. But it is real, and it deserves to be acknowledged.
You might be grieving:
- Your freedom. The ability to make spontaneous decisions. To leave the house in under five minutes. To spend a weekend doing exactly what you want.
- Your body. The way it looked, moved, and felt before. The ownership of it that now feels shared or changed.
- Your relationship. The version of it that existed before three became the baseline.
- Your sense of competence. You were probably good at things before. You had skills and a track record. Now you're a beginner again, in the most high-stakes possible situation.
- Your social self. The friends, the conversations, the version of you that existed in relation to other adults.
- Your professional identity. If you're on leave, you may have lost — temporarily or permanently — a significant part of how you defined yourself.
None of this means you made the wrong choice. It means you made a huge one.
The paradox of loving someone and losing yourself
One of the most disorienting things about matrescence is how it coexists with love. You can feel profound love for your baby and simultaneously feel a hollowness where your previous self used to be. These things are not contradictions. They are the reality of the transition.
It's also worth knowing that the loss is not permanent — but the self that comes through the other side is different from the one that went in. Many parents describe, years later, a sense of having become more themselves in some ways — deeper, clearer, more attuned to what matters. But that comes later. In the early months, what you're most aware of is what's gone, not what's emerging.
Why this matters for mental health
Unacknowledged grief and identity loss are significant contributors to postnatal depression and anxiety. When you don't have language or permission for what you're feeling — when you've been told that parenthood should feel like gain, not loss — the feelings go underground. They come out as irritability, numbness, or a persistent low mood that doesn't seem to have a clear cause.
Naming it helps. Even just having a word for it — this is matrescence, this is the transition, this is normal — can release some of the pressure.
What helps during the transition
Permission to grieve. You're allowed to miss who you were. You're allowed to feel the loss of things that mattered to you, even while knowing you wouldn't choose to undo what you have.
Connection with your pre-parent self. Even small things: a piece of music you loved, a meal you used to make for yourself, ten minutes with a book. These aren't escapism. They're threads back to yourself.
Conversations that aren't about the baby. With a partner, a friend, a stranger on the internet — spaces where you exist as a full person, not just as someone's parent.
Time. Matrescence is a process, not an event. Most people find that the identity disruption is at its most acute in the first year, and that something like groundedness returns — differently shaped — in the second year and beyond.
Support if the grief becomes too heavy. If the sense of loss is overwhelming, if it's affecting your ability to function or connect with your baby, please speak to a professional. This is the kind of thing therapy is genuinely good at.
You are not disappearing
The feeling that you've lost yourself is very real. But it is not the whole truth. The more accurate picture is that you are in the middle of one of the most significant transformations a human being goes through — one that has almost no cultural language and very little support.
You are not disappearing. You are becoming something larger. And right now, you are in the hard, disorienting middle of it.
If things feel very dark right now, you don't have to wait. Samaritans (116 123) are free, confidential, and available 24/7.